For my buddy Andy’s birthday, I took on the task of satisfying his intense sushi craving by searching and locating a Japanese sushi restaurant worthy of his high standards. The final selection was Sushi Seki (1143 First Ave. b/w 62nd and 63rd Sts.), a highly recommended yet low-key restaurant on the Upper East Side.

I was a bit surprised to find a Sushi Seki among the top food scorers in Zagat’s somewhat intimidating list of quality sushi restaurants. Tied with the likes of Nobu and Sushi of Gari with 27 for food and edged out only by Masa ($446 average cost per diner), Sushi Yasuda, and Kuruma Zushi, Sushi Seki seemed like a wonderful deal at only $57 average cost per person.

Rather than a detailed description of the restaurant (in brief, it was a cozy, clean place with good service and incredibly fresh, flavorful sushi), I want to touch upon the topic of how much a person is influenced by great reviews and high scores before he or she enters a restaurant to “verify” the claims, particularly the numbers found in the Zagat Survey. I’m talking specifically about fairly modest restaurants with very high scores that grab our attention - like Pearl Oyster Bar (27), ChikaLicious (25 for a dessert place), and Tasting Room (2 locations, both with 27). For those of us who, from time to time, rely heavily on the Zagat guide - are our expectations tampered with before we even take our first bite?

I could remember several instances at Sushi Seki when I would chew slowly on a specially prepared piece of sushi from the omakase selection telling myself - wow, the sushi is very fresh and tasty, like a restaurant with a 27 should have and finding all the pieces very agreeable and above-average. But had my mind about the sushi at Sushi Seki been made up before I even tasted anything? Although I’m no sushi expert, I could probably have distinguished poor sushi from above-average sushi, but I’m no so sure if I could have distinguished a 23 or 24 sushi from the 27 sushi. What exactly does it take to be 27, and is it all that it’s cracked up to be?

There’s nothing much I can or want to add to this topic, but if you’ve come across moments of uncertain agreement or even doubt about a certain Zagat rating, how does your mind usually react? Does it make excuses on behalf of the survey numbers or can you easily disagree with them? Of course, there are always the opinions of Bruni, Platt, Meehan, and the foodies on Chowhound, but if Zagat was your sole guide, how would the relationship fare? I can’t say I find myself agreeing all the time, but out of habit and perhaps because of my own insecurities, I find myself giving the Zagat guide a certain degree of respect when it comes to modest restaurants with powerful food scores. It’s definitely a good way, if anything else, to get your friends excited about the meal.